


Shiver

by GreyGarnet



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, lio just has a lot of feelings okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:13:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22149979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyGarnet/pseuds/GreyGarnet
Summary: Before this, he was always hot. He never felt the sting of the cold. He never rubbed his arms for warmth or put on another layer of clothes. The heat inside of him never made him sweat or toss and turn either. It wasn’t overwhelming. It was simply warm. The fire was soft and comforting. The Promare was a constant in his life, something that was always there with him, every second of the day. When he woke up in the morning, it was there. When he went to sleep at night, it was there. It was his fire, and as long as he had his flame, he was never alone.Now, everything feels different.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 19
Kudos: 183





	Shiver

After severing his connection with the Promare, Lio feels fine. He gets up in the morning, goes about his day, and he’s fine. He spends his day at the station with Galo, learning and relearning the ins and outs of fire safety, and everything is fine. He crawls into bed at night and he’s fine. He's fine. Even if something feels wrong. Even if something feels incomplete, missing, empty. Even if everything feels shallow. Before this, he was always hot. He never felt the sting of the cold. He never rubbed his arms for warmth or put on another layer of clothes. The heat inside of him never made him sweat or toss and turn either. It wasn’t overwhelming. It was simply warm. The fire was soft and comforting. The Promare was a constant in his life, something that was always there with him, every second of the day. When he woke up in the morning, it was there. When he went to sleep at night, it was there. It was his fire, and as long as he had his flame, he was never alone.

Now, everything feels different. Without his Promare, he knows that things are objectively better. He knows the Earth is safe again and he knows the suffering of his people has dramatically declined. He takes pride in what he’s done for his people and his planet. He doesn’t look back with an ounce of regret. If he had to, he’d do it all again. He was ready to lay down his life without hesitation for the sake of the Burnish. Lio is grateful it never came to that. He’s grateful for Galo being at his side. And Lio is better for it too; the voice is gone, no longer begging him to burn stronger and brighter and engulf everything until the world is reduced to cinders. The voice is gone, and it's a relief. But the voice is gone and it's lonely. It’s different. It’s cold. 

"Hey, are you alive in there?" Galo asks, with a familiar, inquisitive tilt to his head. "You spaced out for a while."

After the dust settles, they start going to the street café almost every morning. It doesn’t take long to become regulars, their weekly visits quickly becoming daily, and Lio admits there are much worse ways to start the day than seeing Galo’s face. He is consistent, always ordering a giant, colorful iced drink and two sausage and cheese breakfast sandwiches which always leaves Lio wondering how on earth anyone could eat so much first thing in the morning. Lio, on the other hand, is content with a small cup of hot tea, though this will inevitably ignite a fierce debate on whether tea is enough for breakfast. Galo forces a pastry on him like he does every morning and watches Lio with unwavering vigilance as he begins to pick it apart, a ritual Lio could frankly due without. 

Lio has to admit that, sometimes, it’s fun to get his other half riled up. For someone who smiles all the time, Galo looks good angry. He can’t help but crack a smirk as Galo simmers, waiting for him to eat. Lio takes his sweet time, his eyes glancing up from time to time at Galo’s handsome frown. For a moment, he’s able to ignore the cold. It feels smaller and more manageable, like a gentle fall breeze as opposed to a rush of piercing winter air. It’s a welcome reprieve and Lio is grateful for it. Whether he was trying or not, Galo makes him feel better, even if for just a moment. 

But then, something turns inside of him. He feels the stabbing chills, subtle at first, but they quickly grow strong enough for his muscles to contract and his shoulders to curl forward. He picks at his lemon poppy seed muffin, no slower than usual, but he feels a set of uneasy eyes studying him.

“You okay?” Galo is getting suspicious. Lio never thought of Galo as a particularly perceptive man, but unfortunately for Lio, he makes up for that with sheer force of will. Galo is watching him carefully now, his eyes narrowing as if trying to figure him out. 

"I'm fine," Lio responds quickly, too quickly, and he knows it. "I didn't sleep well last night," he adds, in an attempt to explain himself and hopefully discourage any more prying questions. But, knowing Galo —

"Come on, spill,” Galo says, gesturing excessively as usual, his grin growing impossibly wide. “Do you think I don't know you well enough by now?" He wouldn't be Galo if his smile didn't carry that unshakeable confidence, unrestrained sincerity, and annoyingly contagious optimism. It’s almost funny how Galo speaks to him, like they’ve been friends for years, like he’ll always be there to look out for him even when he doesn’t want him to. Particularly when Lio doesn’t want him to.

“Don’t pretend to know everything there is to know about me,” Lio exhales, his face twisting into a venomous frown, although historically even the sharpest glares were ineffective against Galo. 

Galo chuckles and smiles, unphased , rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “All right, all right, suit yourself, man,” he says, happy-go-lucky as ever. He takes a big gulp of his drink, and Lio wonders how it doesn’t chill him to his core. Was it always this cold in here? Lio never felt cold, or at least he never used to. Galo must have noticed how Lio’s eyes were locked on the icy beverage, or that his relentless and harmless teasing wasn’t being rewarded with a dry chuckle or fleeting smirk. Lio can feel Galo’s curiosity rapidly shifts into concern. Lio knows he won’t be able to fend him off forever, and in truth he isn’t trying to. He wants to tell him that he felt something out of place. Something he can’t quite describe beyond lonely and empty, different and chilled.

He wants Galo to be concerned. Lio wants Galo to take one look at him and know how twisted he feels inside, how much the air stings, and how incomplete he feels. He doesn’t want to tell him, to have to explain this impossible feeling of emptiness and bone chilling isolation. He just wants him to _ know _ . This terrible feeling of being at war with himself feels endless. Lio’s insides feel twisted and tense, and sitting here dodging those glistening eyes isn’t making things any easier. They have to get going. If they don’t, he’ll break. He’ll shatter like ice and Galo will pick up the pieces because of course he will. Galo was always too good for him.

“We should get going. We’ll be late.” Lio says, standing and grabbing his coat. It’s a bright summer afternoon, but Lio wouldn’t dream of leaving the apartment without his coat. Galo teases him about it endlessly. He wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t. 

“Wouldn’t want you to get cold,” Galo chuckles as he holds the door open for Lio. He’s joking, the sarcasm in his voice heavy, but it stings. Lio ducks under his arm and exits the cafe. 

The following silence is heavy. Lio’s pace is quick, firmly keeping a few steps ahead of Galo. He’s angry at him and he knows it isn’t fair. Galo doesn’t know how empty he feels. He doesn’t know what it feels like to be alone in his own head. He has no idea how unbearably cold he feels on a sunny day. Galo doesn’t deserve this but Lio can’t help but feel indignant. 

Lio can’t do this. Not today. It’s too much today. He needs space, because the loneliness feels heavier with Galo at his side. It’s worse with him here, asking what’s wrong with the best of intentions. Turning on his heels, his expression darkens, and Lio stomps towards Galo with an even faster pace. Lio’s resentful expression is enough to stop Galo in his tracks. “Lio?” Galo asks, increasingly bewildered. He looks hurt. 

Lio walks passed him and ignores their shoulders brushing. It feels impossible to even consider explaining it to Galo. He was never Burnish. He wouldn’t be able to sympathize. What could Lio hope to do? Suffer at his side in silence feeling impossibly lonely in his company, or to waste his time attempting an impossible, crazy, ridiculous explanation? He can’t even explain it to himself, how could he ever hope to make Galo understand? Ripping himself from his thoughts, Lio feels a warm, strong hand grab his wrist, tugging him to a firm halt.

“Hey!” Galo calls, and now he’s angry, too. “Don’t just — ” He’s hesitating, searching for the right words. “Obviously something’s bothering you, you’ve been pissy all morning. Now you’re gonna just storm off and ignore me?” Lio doesn’t look back at him, but he knows his expression. It’s stubborn, harsh, and firey. He can feel Galo’s frustration burning a hole in his back and his anger is a heavy weight pressing on his shoulders.

“Yes.” Lio responds flatly, petulantly. He rips his arm free and starts again only to be stopped by that idiot barking his name.

“Lio!” Galo yells and a few passersby glance their way. They don’t linger, thankfully, but the attention isn’t helping. He doesn’t want the world to know how he feels. They won’t understand. They can’t. In fact, Lio is beginning to think the other former Burnish wouldn’t understand either. They’re probably grateful. Happy to be freed of the voices, happy to begin breaking down the walls of discrimination. Maybe even happy to finally feel a crisp chill or enjoy a cold drink. He knows he’s the problem here. He should just be grateful. Why can’t he just be grateful? 

“Leave me alone!” Lio retorts and his temper is flaring. “You wouldn’t understand. Back off, Galo.” How nice it must be to still feel whole. Lio feels a strange combination of humiliation and budding jealousy. It’s dangerous. It feels like he could drown in it. 

“Then help me,” Galo says, struggling to keep his voice down, but he’s trying, “Just talk to me, help me understand so I can help you through this. I want to help.” 

“You can’t. This is my problem. You can’t. You just can’t.” It’s oddly soothing to hear the desperation in Galo’s voice. To hear just how much he wants to help him. But Lio knows he isn’t special. Galo would want to help anyone. The thought fuels his jealousy and anxiety. It makes his throat feel tight. He pulls his jacket around himself because the cold feels worse now. It’s biting his lungs and stinging his eyes. He can’t take this. He wasn’t built for this. “Find somebody else to rescue. I can’t…” he begins, feeling his legs begin to buckle. His chest heaves, his emotions swelling. He doesn’t understand why this is all bubbling up to the surface. “I need to get out of here,” Lio mutters, averting his eyes and turning his back on Galo. 

The same hand from before reaches for his own. This time, Galo’s voice is impossibly softer and gentler. Lio hates that it’s gentle. The softness breaks him, and he feels something inside him shatter like ice. “Lio, you just need to calm down —” 

“Don’t touch me!” He hisses, his eyes wide with a troubled rage, his hand ripping back from Galo’s reach as though his touch would turn him to dust. He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It’s too venomous. Too spiteful. “I’m empty,” he spits, face contorted into frustrated helplessness. Lio hears his own voice and he sounds pathetic. He sounds helpless and useless and afraid. Galo is dragging an explanation out of him and he hates him for it. “Ever since...” He can’t stop the words tumbling from his lips although he desperately tries. “Now I’m not myself. I’m not me anymore, something’s missing and I’m freezing! I’m so fucking cold.”

His voice falls a little as the anger fades. His expression softens but the hostility is replaced with melancholy. “You can’t understand. I carried them. They were always whispering and crying.” He feels stupid. It sounds crazy. These feelings make no sense to Lio, how could he expect Galo to understand? Lio clutches his fist to his chest. “It was warm. I was warm. And now…”

“It’s cold.” Galo interjects and his voice is gentle. Maybe even understanding. A long, lingering pause hangs heavily between them. Lio looks at him, into his eyes, and he sees empathy and kindness, something Galo always wears proudly on his sleeve. But there is something else, too. Something Lio has only seen once and only briefly. It’s that same glisten in Galo’s eyes when Lio was pulled from death, when their lips touched. Lio felt warm then, too.

Since then, Lio struggled to remember a time when Galo wasn’t at his side. He has a small apartment with Meis and Gueira, but he is rarely there. He crashes at home for the night, meets Galo at the café in the morning, and then they report to the station together. Galo is simply a comfortable person, Lio always thought. Galo is easy to be around. Even now, the look of genuine concern in his eyes is oddly comforting despite the myriad of emotions rushing over Lio.

“Look, if you really need to go home, let’s at least take my bike,” Galo adds, carefully. 

“No.” Lio’s response is quick and flat. He leaves quickly and he doesn’t risk looking back at Galo. He doesn’t want to see his face. He isn’t sure what happened, what made him so damn fragile, and he’s still trying to piece it together. Walking helps him to calm his mind. One foot in front of the other. It’s easy and manageable. As he approaches his apartment, he decides he needs more time to clear his head so keeps walking right passed his building. He walks for a long while, until he finally feels somewhere close to normal. His new normal. 

After two hours or crisp air and soft footfalls, Lio thinks to check his phone and, unsurprisingly, finds endless notifications from Galo. His messages are aggressive and caring, checking on him, asking if he’s alright, if he’s home already. He assumes Galo must have stopped by his apartment to check on him as well because, well, it’s Galo. Lio is still angry but he smiles down at his phone. He can’t help it. It tugs at his mouth and spreads across his face until his cheeks start to hurt. Lio knows his lack of response will bother Galo but if he thought it wouldn’t, he might have responded. He pockets his phone after watching the small read notifications deliver, sighing heavily. Tomorrow, he will have to apologize to Galo. But tonight, he’s revelling in the loneliness.

With this temper quelled, Lio jogs up three flights of concrete stairs and pads down the hallway until he’s home. Once inside, he’s met with a blast of hot air. Every light in the house switched on. “Meis?” He calls, tossing his keys down onto the small table beside the door. “Gueira?” When he’s met with silence, he frowns. The three former Burnish tend to keep the place warm, probably warmer than most humans would find comfortable, but they always turned off the heat and lights when no one is home. “Guys?” He calls again, louder, although this time he hears something, something loud and clumsy thrashing about in the master bedroom.

Right.

“Galo?” Lio doesn’t bother masking his irritation. “How did you even get in?” He crosses the modest apartment in a few quick strides and opens the bedroom door. Lio enters to find his partner surrounded by bags and boxes. “What the…” Lio sighs, already feeling deflated. Galo is impossible.

“Sorry, I, uh,” Galo begins, awkwardly navigating the mess. “I thought I’d have time to clean up before you got here.” Sheepishly running a hand through his mop of blue hair, he beams. “But don’t you worry. Galo is on the case. But look! Look.” Like an excited and overgrown child, he makes his way over to Lio’s bed and pulls back the comforter with unnecessary flourish “Don’t make that face, just look!” 

That face still lingering, Lio makes his way closer. “You’ve unmade my bed. Thanks.”

“No! Here,” Galo points Lio’s attention to the cord running behind his bed. “I put an electric blanket between the fitted sheet and the mattress. There’s a control here,” he elaborates, fishing the device out of his pocket and tossing it over. “And! And!” he continues, dashing expertly through his self-made maze to the room’s opposite corner. “Space heater. See?” Galo explains in great detail all of the obsessive fire safety details and why it’s important that the space heater is on its own outlet. Lio doesn’t listen. He’s far too focused on everything else anyway: the new blankets, a heated bottle for sleeping, and a small pile of oversized clothes. 

“Galo?” Lio inquires with an arched brow as he plucks a black knitted sweater from the pile. It was obviously intended for someone with a much, much broader chest.

“Oh! Yeah that’s mine,” Galo says, visibly excited. “Well, yours now. I never get much use out of it, it’s just been sitting in a drawer. Don’t worry, I washed it!”

Sighing, Lio lets the sweater fall back onto the bed. “Why did you…all of this…I don’t...” Several unfinished sentences die on Lio’s lips as he roughly kicks an empty box toward the door. “My room can barely hold the furniture I do have, much less all this shit…”

“You said you were cold!” Galo’s response is fast and sharp, sharp enough to catch Lio off guard. “And I can’t…. I can’t fix that. I know I can’t replace that fire. So, I just — ” Cursing, Galo manages to laugh at himself. Galo always bounces back so fast. Lio envies that about him. “Man, I’m no good at this,” he adds, sighing and laughing, blue eyes burning bright. “Look, now if you feel cold, you can come home and warm up if you need to. I dunno if it’ll help, but maybe you can give it a shot.” He plops down onto his bed with a heavy sigh, instantly making himself at home and sprawling out on his back. Lio almost doesn’t mind. Galo stares up at the ceiling, the disaster of boxes and plastic bags going ignored. “Hate seeing you upset, you know?”

Frowning, Lio looks down at Galo on his bed. Galo was never one to let things go. He should have expected something like this from him. “You know,” he begins, crawling onto the bed to settle down next to him, mimicking Galo’s posture and staring up at the ceiling. “Sometimes I’m just going to be...” No, that wasn’t quite right. “You can’t expect to...” Why was this difficult? Lio wasn’t one to trip over his words; he speaks confidently and concisely. He always has.

“Are you mad?” Galo asks, turning his head a little to look at him properly.

“No,” Lio snaps with contradictory anger. He sighs, and then in a softer voice, “No, I’m not mad.” Lio keeps his eyes locked on the ceiling. If he looks at Galo now, he would never regain his train of thought. “You did something nice. I don’t want to think about how much you spent doing this.” Lio hears a dry chuckle from Galo beside him. Finally, it seems like he can articulate his thoughts, “There’s gonna be times when I’m not okay and you won’t be able to fix it. I’ve lost a part of myself.”

To Lio’s surprise, Galo doesn’t interrupt. He feels the weight beside him shift as Galo rolls onto his side, listening intently, his head propped up on one of his hands. Lio still doesn’t look at him. He needs to explain himself without getting distracted. He knows those piercing blues would mystify him and derail his train of thought. He could see the fire in Galo’s eyes, the ever-burning passion which resonates through his core. It’s something he adores about Galo; his spirit is magnetic and addictive. He adores it, but sometimes, when that anxious, biting cold nips at his insides, he can’t help but feel a nasty pang of envy. He used to have fire, too. Lio’s eyes narrow as he stares at the ceiling. He’s frustrated, but it feels a little easier now than it had outside the café. Here in this warm room, with Galo beside him, it’s a little less difficult and more safe.

“So, do you not want to see me? When you’re not feeling so hot.” Galo asks, the obvious worry heavy in his voice. He’s trying to be supportive. It’s working. 

“No,” Lio’s response is instant, “No, I want to see you. Even when I’m cold.” Finally, Lio turns his head to the side to meet Galo’s gaze. Carefully, he reaches for Galo’s free hand, easily threading their fingers together. “Especially then.” Lio’s fuchsia eyes flicker to their hands for a moment before returning to meet Galo’s. “Just being here is enough. Okay?”

Galo appears absolutely entranced, staring back at him dumbfounded, a charming pink blush staining his handsome face. Cute, Lio notes. It really doesn’t take much, does it? “R-Right, I…yeah, you got it, whatever you want, I just, you know, I just thought…”

“Galo,” Lio’s interjection is amused and, frankly, for Galo’s benefit. He figures it would’ve been best to cut him off before he stammered himself to death. “This was nice.” Lio smiles at him a little, barely, the pad of his thumb gently tracing idle, nonsense shapes into Galo’s palm. His hand is warm. “Thank you.” They hadn’t discussed any labels, rules, or expectations. They hadn’t talked about how they felt or made any blatant declarations, and they hadn’t talked about Galo breathing life back into him three months ago. They didn’t need to; their silent fondness was enough, at least for a while. However, holding his hand like this, watching the blush linger and creep down his neck, Lio can’t help but push the boundaries a little, eager for something more than silence.

In a smooth motion, Lio closes the distance between them. He feels Galo instinctively tense and hears his breath catch in his throat. It’s charming, he thinks to himself with a subtle smirk, before leaning just close enough to press a slow, tender kiss to Galo’s lips. It wasn’t to save anyone’s life, or to change the world; it was just because he could. Lio didn’t expect his lips to be quite as soft as they were, and it was all he could to resist his budding greed for more. Glancing up he sees Galo’s eyes squeezed shut, and he can’t help but chuckle a little, affectionately nosing along his jawline. “…Nervous?” he purrs, taunting the man, a shameless grin spreading across his face.

“No,” Galo’s voice is defiant and embarrassed. He looks like a petulant child, with his jaw set and his eyebrows knitted together. But Lio wants to change that. Galo’s body jolts as Lio’s free hand worms between them, sliding up and over his heart. Now, his eyes are wide, cerulean oceans that Lio could get lost in. 

“Don’t lie to me. Your heart is racing.” Lio mumbles, his teasing relentless but soft. Eventually, the same hand lingering over Galo’s heart slides higher, grazing between his pectorals and over his throat before ultimately resting behind his neck. He guides the taller man’s head down a little, their lips brushing, but he waits, looking up at Galo. He waits for his eyes to crack open again, to meet the intensity of his gaze before finally kissing him, feeling the other man melt against him and relax into their kiss.

The gesture is lingering and greedy, Lio’s teeth harmlessly nipping at his mouth before finally allowing him to catch his breath. He wants more, to chase this building heat with his tongue and weave himself into the center of Galo’s world. Growing bold, Lio’s tongue slips forward, deepening their kiss and pressing closer. The hand on the back of Galo’s neck slides up a little, fingernails harmlessly grazing along the short hairs of his undercut, his efforts finally rewarded by a deep, rumbling groan from Galo’s throat.The sound shoots chills up Lio’s spine, and for the first time they feel welcome. They’re eager and exciting and thrilling; Lio could get used to this. Finally, he pulls away though for them to properly breathe, and he notices he’s kissed Galo’s lips a velvety shade of pink. Galo’s expression is endearing. He looks flustered, like he’s forgotten how to breath properly. Lio laughs a little, much to his partner’s dismay.

“Shut up.” Suddenly, Galo’s wrapping his arms around Lio, pulling him into a crushing hug. The firefighter’s massive arms coil around Lio’s middle and Galo clutches him tight against his chest as if he was worried he’ll float away. 

“Galo!” Lio wriggles, straining to scold him with all the air pushed out of his lungs. “Get off me, idiot!” Lio can feel Galo’s body shake with laughter. He loosens his grip around Lio’s smaller frame mercifully but Galo doesn’t let him go. “How’re you feeling?” He asks, his voice near Lio’s ear. Lio can feel the heat of his blush radiating against his face, and he finds the heat comforting.

“Better,” Lio hums, letting his eyes ease close as his body relaxes against Galo’s form. He pulls his hand from Galo’s grip only to let it drift around his waist and idly stroke his spine. Lio feels Galo’s breath hitch from his touch, something Lio finds himself reveling in. He wants more of that. Idly, Lio wonders if Galo’s body was always this warm or if it was simply due to the burn of intimacy. Galo’s head rests heavily on his shoulder. He kisses his neck, and Lio adores it. He loves how softly his lips brush his neck, how warm his breath feels on his skin, and how natural being close to him feels. Being with him is easy. Lio’s hand eventually settles on the small of his back, idly tracing his muscles, feeling more at peace now than in what felt like ages. 

Lio catches his eyes, and he can feel him checking in, silently, making sure he’s okay. “I’m fine,” he assures, sighing. “I’m better now.” It’s true, he’s better, infinitely so. He isn’t perfect, he isn’t feeling the same constant, flickering flame inside of him like he did before, and he knows he never will again. But at least now he doesn’t feel lonely, not while tangled up with Galo. 

Time passes slowly and quietly. They stay like this for a long while, resting and offering small, intimate touches. Galo eventually falls asleep, tangled around Lio. Lio appreciates Galo’s relaxed features as he dares to card a hand through the snoozing man’s hair. Galo shifts a little, but is otherwise undisturbed, his breath steady and hot against Lio’s neck.

Over the past few months he’s been cold. Every day he woke up feeling chilled and on edge, the constant anxiety slowly simmering beneath the surface, waiting to erupt. It felt different this evening though, as Galo dozed in his arms, holding him so close. He can’t see it now, but he knows Galo has that stupid expression when he sleeps, something similar to a worry free bliss. Lio envies it a little, thinking to himself how nice it would feel to be even a fraction that serenity, only to realize that this moment was just that; calm, gentle and serene. It was warm, between the steady heat of Galo’s body pressed against him and the electric blanket beneath them, Lio finally felt secure. The room began to bloom with a heavy, soothing heat, and Lio never wanted to leave. For the first time in what felt like ages, Lio finally felt as though he didn’t need to shiver.

**Author's Note:**

> "I want you to know how I'm feeling but I don't want you to make me say it" is basically the anthem of my life so I might as well project it into a fic right? 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> edited by xxFeuerFrei and Speckeh.


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